Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness
by Polydicta
Summary: Once more, Harry Potter is called upon to save British Wizarding society - this time from a Minister for Magic who simply won't change his mind. Warning for Biblical Plagues and nasty death. A short story in three very short chapters.
1. The prophesy and the plague

**Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness 1: The prophesy and the plague**

by Polydicta

Once more, Harry Potter is called upon to save British Wizarding society - this time from a Minister for Magic who simply won't change his mind. Warning for Biblical Plagues and nasty death.

A short story in three very short chapters.

 **Disclaimer:**

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

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 **Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness 1: The prophesy and the plague**

.

Harry Potter sat in the library of his London home, the former Black family home, the infamous and hidden Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

After the defeat of Voldemort, he had re-cast the fidelius over the place, and allowed precious few into the secret.

Hermione was upstairs asleep after having arrived this afternoon in tears. She had been happily married to Auror First Class Ron Weasley for twenty years before he had taken a high-powered blasting curse to his face while trying to apprehend a drunken reveller in The Elf and Firkin down Cynic Alley in Plymouth.

Now, she had been instructed by the Wizengamot that, by law, she must marry a pureblood who had bid for her after the death of her husband, and her underage children were to be placed in the care of The Ministry for placement with an acceptable family. The law was enacted, and the marriage would occur at the Spring Equinox, in just over three months time.

Harry Potter, the reclusive defeater of Voldemort, Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Batchelor for the 32nd year running and author of popular fantasy books in the muggle world was furious. After Hermione had fallen asleep, he contacted a number of muggleborn and half-blood friends and acquaintances to find out what was happening in the wizarding world outside his front door.

The purebloods had, it seems, learned nothing from the years of Voldemort's reign. They were once again treating the muggleborn like chattel, and half-bloods like second-class citizens. It seemed that even muggle-baiting was on the increase again.

.

The next morning, Harry put on his wizarding robes and went to visit Minerva Mcgonnegall who was still the headmistress of Hogwarts. She, too, was near to tears due to the idiocies handed down from the ministry. No longer were muggleborn students allowed to take their NEWTs, their wands were to be taken from them outside of class, and were to be taken from them permanently upon graduation.

"Who passed these new rules?"

"The Minister of Magic, Emmanuel Cracknell," she spat.

"Who?"

"He appeared in the public eye about five years ago. He rather resembles Dolores Umbridge …"

"Leave it with me, Minerva …"

.

Next on his list was Lavender Brown the resident astrologer at the Daily Prophet.

"Harry! I was going to call you. There has been a new prophesy. Luna thinks that you're part of it."

Harry facepalmed. "Ummm?"

"Yes. Go and see Luna down in the Ministry basement."

So he went.

Luna was not her usual self. She was visibly agitated and obviously upset, and rather more focused than was normal for her.

"They dissolved my marriage, Harry, so that they could make me marry some old fart on the Whingengamot."

"What? How?"

"Newton is a half-blood, and therefore has no real rights in the face of the new minister's latest decrees."

"New minister, Luna? I've been out of touch for a while."

"Some idiot by the name of Cracknell. That's Toad Umbridge's mother's maiden name."

"Not a wizarding name I recognise …"

"No, she was a muggleborn."

Harry winced. "Any relation?"

Luna grinned evilly. "Yes, Umbridge's nephew. Her _muggleborn_ nephew."

Harry smiled. This was the grim smile that Harry wore when someone was about to be handed their own head on a platter.

"Lavender said there was a prophesy?"

Luna beamed. "Yes. There is, and it's a fun one. It's one of Parvati's."

"A dream narrative?"

Luna nodded.

 _The image floating above the pensieve showed a man in a bowler hat and pinstriped robes. The minister. As the memory began to play, he could be seen standing in a muddy field by a foetid river. Behind him there was a fat cow._

 _A moment later, there arose a half-seen shadowy figure playing a crumhorn._

 _The fat cow seemed to shatter and crumble into the mud of the field._

 _The minister looked on, unmoving and uncaring._

 _The river changed to the colour and consistency of blood, and he remained impassive._

 _A skeletally thin cow floated down the river and climbed up onto the river bank and confronted the minister._

 _The minister did nothing._

 _The skeletal cow collapsed and dissolved into a swarm of flies which attacked the unmoving minister, biting him until he was raw and bleeding._

 _Doing nothing more, the minister's skin broke out into massive, suppurating boils._

 _The world became rimed with ice, thick and hard. The river froze and a blizzard blew, obscuring the view for moments at a time. The world took on the appearance of a frozen moon, and yet the minister gave no sign of action._

 _He continued to look on as the world was overcome with darkness._

 _At last, in the dimmest twilight, the figure ceased playing the crumhorn which morphed into a scythe as the muddy field sprouted with a mixture of sickly and fat wheat. The figure swung his scythe and every seventh sickly stalk was mown down._

 _The minister stood resolute._

 _The figure held out it's hand, seemingly demanding payment._

 _The minister ignored the hand._

 _At last, the figure swung his scythe and the minister, too, was mown down - his blood poisoning the sickly wheat and nourishing the healthy._

"Well, that was biblical."

"I didn't know you played crumhorn, Harry."

"What? What makes you think that was me?"

"You possess the three hallows, Harry. You are also a figure who is rarely seen, a mystery."

Harry nodded, knowing that to dispute was pointless.

"So what happens now, Luna?"

"We publish and are damned. You know what you have to do. We have grown fat and complacent since you last saved us, and now you have to do it again …" she pondered a moment before continuing, " but without the dark lord and the torture curse, of course."

"What about the Wizengamot?"

"The old farts society rubber stamps everything, and I mean _everything_ that the minister decrees. There is no help there."

.

Instead of apparating home, Harry went to the minister's office.

When he finally got in to see the man he was revolted by the resemblance to Dolores Umbridge. He asked the minister to reconsider the lunacy of his latest ministerial decrees.

"Mister Potter, you are a half-blood and I only agreed to meet you be of your services to this country. You have no voice here, so do not meddle in things that do not concern you."

"You are a muggleborn, Minister."

"No, Mr Potter, I am the Minister of Magic."

"That's **_for_** magic, not _of_."

"No, it is what I say it is, now get out."

Harry left, fuming.

.

The next day, Harry picked up a copy of the Prophet. The front page and a large part of the paper concerned the prophesy - and it's interpretation.

"What a load of rubbish!"

"Hermione, that load of rubbish is brilliant. And what's more, it is extremely prophetic. The minister will have to pay the piper, one way or the other."

Hermione regarded her friend.

"Harry …"

He held up his hands "It's a prophetic dream. This one is quite biblical. What's more, it is easy to make happen."

She looked curious. "How?"

Harry grinned. "I discovered a charm that can be used and abused so easily."

"Explain …."

And he did, and gained a radiant smile from his fiend.

.

At midnight Harry's trusted few were gathered in Grimmauld Place.

Harry gathered his magic to him and waved his wand over a map of the British Isles as he incanted:

" _Arcanum est_ : Magicals in Britain know that water isn't blood and that it is drinkable. _Occultatum eam. Hoc sacramentum participes omnes poterunt._ _Fidelis_!"*

His audience, as one, expressed revulsion at the contents of the water glass on the table which now looked and smelled like blood.

"Please remember that the secret is that _Magicals in Britain know that water isn't blood and that it is drinkable_. You may share the secret with those you trust. The charm will be broken two nights hence."

His friends all relaxed. They drifted off to their respective homes and families.

.

* This is of course the fidelius charm which translates as: "The secret is: ********* . Make it hidden. All those present shall be able to share the secret. _Fidelis_."

The counter charm, only able to be cast by a secret keeper is: "Illud secretum non ********. Illud non latet. Finitum-fidelis."

That is, "Make it no longer secret that *******; make it no longer hidden. End the _fidelis_."

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	2. Seven plagues

**Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness** **2: Seven plagues**

by Polydicta

Once more, Harry Potter is called upon to save British Wizarding society - this time from a Minister for Magic who simply won't change his mind. Warning for Biblical Plagues and nasty death.

 **Disclaimer:**

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

 **Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness** **2: Seven plagues**

.

On the second day of the illusory plague he had brought upon British wizardkind, he dressed in plain black robes, put the ring with the second hallow on his finger, wrapped himself in his invisibility cloak and, picking up the Elder Wand, apparated to the atrium of the Ministry of magic.

Willing himself to be somewhat visible, he stood and regarded the comings and goings of the populace in the ministry. His half-seen, shadowed figure caused gasps of horror as people recognised the figure from the prophesy.

He was accosted by a terrified Percy Weasley. "What do you want?"

The cloak disguised the voice of the wearer when used in this manner, and a hollow rasp replied, " ** _ask your minister if he shall recant his foolishness. I will wait for his answer_**."

The toady scuttled off, returning some time later with the minister's reply, "he says that he is the Minister of Magic, and do not meddle in things that do not concern you."

.

Midnight saw the previous people once more in Grimmauld Place.

Magic was gathered, and Harry waved his wand over the map while incanting, " illud secretum non _Magicals in Britain know that water isn't blood and that it is drinkable._ Illud non latet. Finite-fidelis!"

And thus the charm was broken.

Once more, Harry gathered his magic and waving his wand over the map once more, he incanted:

"Arcanum est: _Magicals in Britain know that food may be consumed by way of their mouths_. Occultatum eam. Hoc sacramentum participes omnes poterunt. Fidelis!"*

This time the charm would be left for seven days.

.

Each day, Harry disguised himself and returned to the Ministry. Each day he asked the same question, and each day he was refused. Each day he saw wizards and witches becoming more fractious and surly as they hungered ever more on their enforced diets.

On the third day, however, the aurors were called and they tried to move him on. Then they tried to arrest him, but it is difficult to arrest someone who is as insubstantial as smoke.

On the fourth day, they tried to curse him, but with precisely as much effect, other than managing to curse a member of the public who was on the other side of Harry's insubstantial form. After that they left him alone.

On the seventh day, Percy didn't come by, so Harry went to find the Minister.

" ** _Shall you recant your foolishness, Emmanuel Cracknell_**?"

Once more he was told "I am the Minister of Magic, do not meddle in things that do not concern you."

.

That night the secret was again changed, this time the secret was that _Magicals in Britain know that they are not being swarmed by biting flies_.

Seven days was once more the time for the plague to run.

.

Invisible Harry was amused to see the folks in the Ministry dancing and twirling, trying to avoid the flies they imagined were swarming them. Even more fun was watching the hungry wizards and witches trying to eat after their enforced fasting - and trying to ward off the imaginary insects that surrounded them.

By the time Harry went up to bother the Minister, the Ministry canteen looked as though there had been an all-day food fight. Not for the last time, either.

Again, each day, the Minister refused to change his stance, and then he refused to acknowledge the presence in his office. In reply, Harry figured out how to make the sounds of a swarm of flies using a comb and a sheet of paper in order to increase the pressure on the Minister.

At the end of the week, Harry changed the secret yet again. This time, he hid the fact that " _Magicals in Britain are not covered in suppurating boils and running abcesses_."

.

The stench of essence of murtlap, essence of dittany and anti-boil paste in the Ministry that morning was overwealming.

Wandering invisibly, Harry would occasionally use his makeshift kazoo to make workers jump nervously at the sound of a nearby swarm of flies. He did the same with the Minister.

A week passed, and still without any change in the Minister's position. The wiches and wizards who Harry saw were looking ever more haunted and gaunt. Often, he would find someone in the offices passed out because the lack of sleep had caught up with them.

By the following Monday, there was a shortage of murtlap, dittany and the ingredients of the anti-boil paste. Likewise, by Wednesday, other emollients were in short supply.

A fortnight of the Plague of Boils, and still the Minister stood resolute. Everybody else was ready to lynch the man, but any disturbance was put down hard.

And the plague ended on schedule, to be replaced by _Adult m_ _agicals in Britain know that the weather is not unsurvivably cold_.

It took three days to bring Magical Britain to a standstill and, while it was a fairly warm spring, the few magicals moving around outside were bundled up in massive heaps of clothing and warming charms.

At four days, Harry relented even in the face of an unmoving Minister. The perceived cold was all too likely to kill people due to heatstroke. Just to make it worse, children could see that the adults were acting stupidly.

And still the Minister ignored the entreaty to relent.

At the next meeting, the plague became, " _Magicals in Britain know that they can see more than a shadowy twilight world about them_."

This time, there was a dull resolve to weather the plague as before.

-::::::::-

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	3. The Coming of The Angel of Death

**Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness** **3: The Coming of The Angel of Death**

by Polydicta

Once more, Harry Potter is called upon to save British Wizarding society - this time from a Minister for Magic who simply won't change his mind. Warning for Biblical Plagues and nasty death.

 **Disclaimer:**

All fiction is derivative and fan fiction doubly so. I make no claim to own any part of any of the following, all I have done is an attempt to put together the elements in a novel fashion, using words and ideas like Lego ™ bricks.

There is no money involved – all I do is to share what I do for my own amusement.

-::::::::-

.

 **Fidelius - a tale of pig-headedness** **3: The Coming of The Angel of Death**

.

The Prophet had re-run the story about the prophesy with each of the plagues, showing clearly how each plague had been foretold. This time, there was a note of panic in the article, suggesting that should things continue as they were, then the next plague would be a plague of death.

When Harry modified the charm in order to make British Magicals forget they could taste and smell more than a hint of anything a week later, there was a mass outpouring of vocal panic.

A further week saw hearing being muted by the same method, and The Prophet was loud in its commentary that the darkness was falling over more than just the loss of daylight. At that time, a further prophesy was publicised.

 _I saw in the mists the shape of a man wearing a bowler hat, and his foot was on the neck of a ram that lay at his feet._

 _A shadowed figure carrying a blazing sword spoke to him, "will you relent in your path, Minister?"_

 _And the minister said, "I will it not."_

 _At that, the mists drew back and there was a field full of rams, each had a figure stood in plum silk robes over it, and each held down by that figure's foot._

 _The figure spoke again, "and will you relent in your path, Minister?"_

 _And the minister said, "I will it not."_

 _The mists drew further back, revealing the ewes and their lambs, and each ewe had a figure stood with a foot on its neck, and these figures were in peacock robes, each with a wand drawn and aimed at the lambs. Many of those figures had a black robed figure behind it with wand threatening the peacock robed figure._

 _Once more the figure spoke, "and will you relent in your path, Minister?"_

 _And the minister said, "I will it not."_

 _"Is it by your will that these innocents die at the hands and feet of those you control?"_

 _The minister replied, "I care not."_

 _The mists cleared and I could see a sea of red-robed figures facing outward and ready to wage war on the rams and ewes and lambs in the next field. Many of those in red robes were also threatened by black robed figures._

 _"Is it by your will that those innocents beyond the borders shall die at your command?"_

 _Once more the minister replied, "I care not."_

 _"So be it," quoth the shadowed figure, "by your will each shall be dealt according to his heart."_

 _The figure swung his blazing sword, and the blade passed through the multitude, and those in black and those unthreatened in peacock robes and red were felled._

 _Once more the figure spoke, "and will you relent in your path, Minister?"_

 _And the minister said, "I will it not."_

 _Again, the figure swung his blazing sword, and the blade passed through the multitude, and those in plum were felled._

 _Once more the figure spoke, "and will you relent in your path, Minister?"_

 _And the minister said, "I will it not."_

 _"Then by your will shall you also be dealt."_

 _The figure swung his flaming brand, and the minister cried, "I will it not."_

 _Thrice the sword smote the minister, and his cry was the same, but the third stroke had hurt him most sorely, and he sank to the ground._

 _As he lay, he cried, "I will it not!" and there rose up from his wounds a foul fume which took on the semblance of a foul face, and it cried, "I will it not"_

 _The figure swung the sword once more, and the cloud was split in twain, and its miasma dissipated._

Harry, once more visited the Ministry, but this time, his words to the Minister were, " **Will you relent your path, Emannuel Cracknell?** "

The Minister's shock at the words were visible in the way he stiffened, but he declined to comment.

" **Are you so determined to wage your war on the entirity of the magical world?** "

"I so will it," was the quiet response.

" **So be it, then death is your choice.** "

.

That night, it was with a heavy heart that Harry, without anyone present but for Hermione cast a further _fidelius_ -curse: " _those who willingly and knowingly follow the Wizengamot's and the current minister for magic's oppressive orders know how to breathe._ "

The next day, The Prophet ran an article on the advent of _The Plague of Death_ , saying how a number of aurors and hit wizards had died in their sometime overnight, and that a number of other wizards and witches had done likewise. They noted that each wore an expression of utter terror, and had died clawing at their throats. All had blue lips and bloodshot eyes.

.

Harry's visit to the Ministry saw haunted eyes and terrified faces throughout. His visit to the Minister was only slightly changed.

Again, his words to the Minister were, " **Will you relent your path, Emannuel Cracknell?** "

This time, after the minister gave no reply, Harry asked, " **do you repent the deaths that are upon your head?** "

The minister looked up and simply replied, "I care not one whit for those sheep."

" **So upon your head be it.** "

.

Midnight saw a guilt-ridden Harry once more casting the _fidelius_ -curse, " _those of The Wizengamot who willingly and knowingly follow the current minister for magic's oppressive orders know how to breathe._ "

The Prophet's next headline was assured. "The Plague of Death continues - 128 dead of 196 sitting members of the Wizengamot died in agony and terror."

Hermione noted that the majority of the deceased were from families that had members who had been Death Eaters during Voldemort's reign of terror.

.

The eyes of the Ministry personnel seemed to contain something akin to hope and relief.

Harry once more demanded of the Minister, " **Will you relent your path, Emannuel Cracknell?** "

Again, after the minister gave no reply, Harry asked, " **do you repent the deaths that are upon your head?** "

The minister looked up and simply replied, "They were damned the moment they acceded to my demand."

" **So upon your head be it.** "

.

Moving to an empty office, Harry got out his map, and cast the fidelius again, " _The Minister for Magic, Emannuel Cracknell knows how to breathe._ "

Returning to the Minister's office, the man was choking, already blue around the lips, but seemingly composed.

" **Will you relent your path, Emannuel Cracknell?** "

The man shook his head and mouthed a foul epithet at Harry.

Returning to the office Harry again cast his curse, " _The Minister for Magic, Emannuel Cracknell has a heart that can beat and a body that can is under his control._ "

This time, the Minister was twitching, already dead but still moving … and aware.

" **Will you relent your path, Emannuel Cracknell?** "

The man shook his head and mouthed a foul epithet at Harry.

Returning to the office Harry again cast his curse, " _The Minister for Magic, Emannuel Cracknell has a brain that can contain his thoughts and being._ "

Upon returning, Harry saw that the Minister was just about to expire completely, and as the light left his eyes, a familiar apparition arose from his mouth, a smoky form that became the face of Lord Voldemort.

"I don't know who you are, but I will destroy you …" it hissed.

Harry cast his final abuse of the fidelius curse then and there, he had reached the point where he could cast the curse silently, and this time took next to no magical power.

" _Arcanum est_ : Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Vodemort, knows how to survive death. _Occultatum eam. Hoc sacramentum participes omnes non poterunt._ _Fidelis_!"

The smoke dissipated with a small pop.

By the time that Harry returned home, the curses, all but the final one, had been dispelled.

.

"What is it Harry?"

Hermione could see the look of utter horror on her friend's face. He looked at her.

"We missed one, 'Mione. He was back and this time it was personal."

"Back? V ... Voldemort?"

"He's gone again. This time, I truly believe that he's gone forever. I hope."

That night, Hermione cast her own fidelius: " _Harry Potter was the Hand of Prophesy that took so many lives under the ministry of Emannuel Cracknell._ " It took all of her strength, but there was no way that her friend would ever know what he did. It was the least she could do to repay his saving her … again.

.


End file.
